


Who are you and what have you done with Harry?

by Hazzalovescarrots



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, M/M, Nerd Harry, Smut, Top!Harry, Tutoring, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzalovescarrots/pseuds/Hazzalovescarrots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis needs help with his French and Harry tutors him.<br/>Harry is kind of the geek at school, but when Louis surprises him on Saturday, just when Harry's gotten up, he sees some unexpected things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

   “Mr. Tomlinson, you need to get your grades up,” Mr. Harris says as softly as he can. “I know your focus has been somewhere else, this term, but if you don’t raise your grade, you might fail.”

   Louis sits in a chair, in French class. The students have left; Louis had been asked to stay behind, because Mr. Harris apparently had something important to say.

   Louis is close to failing his French class. If he only can raise his grades up to a C, he doesn’t have to do the make-up test, two weeks from now. During his first year, Louis excelled at French. It was his favorite class. But then, football had come along and his coach had pushed him harder than ever. He had gotten distracted.

   “I highly recommend a tutor. We have several students here who are happy to help you. Do you want me to assign you someone or can you find someone or your own?”  

   Louis stands up hastily, snatching his bag off of the floor. “I’ll find someone on my own. Thanks for the heads-up, Mr. Harris. Bye-bye, now.” He leaves his teacher like that, swinging out of the classroom and heading for the cafeteria. He has a target in sight. The only person he’d even consider letting close enough to help him.

   Harry Styles.

***

   The boy sits alone at a table in the cafeteria. His hair perfectly slicked back, not a lock out of place and his glasses perched on his nose. There is still a strip of duct tape running between the lenses, from where they broke during a gym lesson, a couple months ago. He is immersed in a book that is balanced in his lap. His fingers are thumbing at the edge of his gray sweater vest that everyone else hates, but Louis manages to find oddly adorable.

   Louis walks over to his own table, joining his friends. Veronica and Liam sit close together, knees brushing against each other under the desk. Niall and Zayn aim and toss corn chips at one another. They laugh hysterically when they miss and cheer loudly when they manage to get it into the other’s mouth.

   Louis shakes his head fondly at his friend’s crazy antics. He lowers himself down into a chair and pulls out an apple, twirling it in his hand before taking a bite. The sweet juice settles on his taste buds and he hums, stomach growling. He finishes his apple, silently watching his friends and occasionally glancing over to Harry.

   Niall is struggling to open a pack of Fritos, laughing too hard to be able to pull the edges in the right direction. Zayn just grins at the boy the whole time, suggesting a knife to open it with. Louis bites his lip, deciding to speak up.

   “Hey, would it be alright if I invited Harry over to eat with us?”

   Niall jerks, spilling corn chips all over the table. Veronica chokes on her Diet Coke and Liam pats her leg gently. Zayn freezes, knife still held out towards Niall.

   “You serious, mate?” Niall says, sweeping the chips into a pile in front of him. “I mean, he’s kind of-“

   Louis interrupts him. “What, nerdy? So? I’m just gonna ask him to be my tutor. He’s like the smartest kid around here and I’m failing French. What are you looking so shocked about?”

   Niall and Zayn look at each other, and then nod. Veronica slurps on her drink. “I just never thought you’d want to actually talk to him. You ignore him as much as possible.”

   Louis shrugs, taking another apple from his bag. He polishes it on his sleeve then rises from his seat. “It seems like he prefers to be alone most of the time.”

   Niall chews on his lip. “No one prefers to be alone.” He and Zayn share another look and Louis decides in that moment to slip from his table, walking with a sure stride to Harry.

   The boy is so focused on his book, he barely notices as Louis takes a seat. Louis places the apple in front of Harry and the boy starts, blinking rapidly. He tilts his head to the side, eyebrows bunched together.

   “Can I help you?” his voice is so wonderfully deep and he slurs his words, making them run as slow as honey. Louis bites his lip, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes.

   “I kind of need a favor.”

   Harry frowns, closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Favor?” his tone is unsure as he regards Louis.

   “I need a tutor. I’m this close,” Louis holds up his thumb and index finger close together. “to failing French. I’m asking for your help.” Louis tags on the puppy eyes and Harry pauses for a minute before relenting, adjusting his glasses.

   “Tomorrow’s Saturday, but I can meet up with you during the day sometime,” Harry says, fingering at the edge of his book and straightening his tie and sweater vest. Louis nods, digging his phone out of his pocket and sliding it over the table-top towards Harry.

   “Give me your number and I’ll call you.”

   Harry bites on the loose skin on his finger as he types in his number on Louis’ phone. When he reaches to hand it back, the sleeve of his shirt rides up, showing Louis a sliver of black on his wrist, hiding beneath his watch. Louis twists his mouth to one side.

   “Great, thanks. So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Louis chirps, smiling at Harry, who clears his throat, cheeks tinged pink. Just as Louis stands up to leave, Harry lifts the apple and takes a bite from it. He nods his head in thanks and Louis waves back, returning to his own table.

   ***

A sharp ringing sounds in Louis’ ear.

   He growls, grabbing for his phone to turn the annoying sound off. God, how he hates Marimba. He’s heard it enough times for it to stick in his head as he gets up out of bed, pulling on sweats over his briefs. He runs a hand through his messy hair, groaning and stretching his body languidly.

   After taking a shower, he bounds into the kitchen, greeting his mum with a kiss on the cheek and his sisters with an individual hug from behind. He always does this. He loves his family and, being the only son in the group, he feels a responsibility towards his sisters, all of them younger than Louis.

   He pours himself a cup of tea; he’s never really taken to the taste of coffee. When he’s spreading butter on toast, he spots his French textbooks lying on the counter. He starts, remembering Harry and his tutoring session. He fetches his phone, checking it for texts or calls. He’d texted Harry last night, just giving the number a test run. He hadn’t gotten a response, so either he hadn’t seen it or he’d just opted to not answer.

   Louis doesn’t call Harry. He decides on surprising the boy instead at his house. He’s always liked the way Harry gets flustered and surprised. 

   He hops up the stairs to his bedroom and tugs a pair of tight black jeans onto his legs. He pulls on a t-shirt; black on the neckline and sleeves, but the rest of it white. His hair is soft and feathery as he cards his fingers through his, sticky with gel. He sweeps it up into a quiff, making a little swirl at the top. Popping back downstairs, he puts on a denim jacket and snatches his bag off of the floor.

   “Mum, you workin’ the night shift, again?”

   Jay steps into the hallway, sidling up beside Louis. “Yeah, hun, so I need you to put the girls to bed.”

   Louis kisses his mum on the cheek, again, slipping into his shoes. “Alright, I have to go meet up with a friend, but I’ll be back later.”

   He opens the front door and is faced with pouring rain. He jumps back, hiding under the cover of the door way. He grabs an umbrella from the stand.

   Opening it up, he steps outside. Heavy drops of rain pound the surface of the umbrella. Louis hurries to his car, shaking the umbrella out and ducking inside. He is about to put the keys in the ignition when he realizes, he doesn’t know where Harry lives.

   _This is ridiculous,_ Louis thinks. _I’ve known this boy for more than three years. How do I not know where he lives?_   

   He scrunches his face up as he thinks for a moment. He picks his phone out of his pocket, dialing Niall’s number.

   “Who the fuck dares call me at this ungodly hour?” Niall’s voice rumbles in his ear. His tone is aggressive and deep; Louis knows he’s just woken up.

   “Hey buddy,” Louis makes his tone as gentle as possible, also knowing that after a Friday night, he probably went out and got drunk with Zayn. It’s just about twelve o’clock and Niall snorts over the phone.

   “What is it, Louis?”

   “Just wanted to know; where does Harry live?” Louis says, pointedly ignoring Niall’s sharp burst of swearwords. Louis cringes, holding his phone away from his ear, the faint noise of Niall’s hangover thundering over it.

   “That’s what you wanted to call me for? He lives just down the street, you bloody idiot.”

   Louis starts, blinking rapidly. “He what?”

   Niall sighs. There is a rumbling in the background as he shifts, undoubtedly still in bed. “Yeah, he’s been living four houses down for about three years. But you never bothered to notice.”

   Louis frowns. He hadn’t realized how much he’s ignored Harry for the length of his high school experience. He feels terrible, now. Not only does Harry sit and eat by himself, but he also suffers the ignorance of pretty much every student in that darn school. Louis bites his lip, wanting fiercely to apologize for his behavior.

   Louis isn’t a bad guy; he’s not a bully. He’s just been so massively distracted by his grades and football that he’s never cared enough to acknowledge the fact that Harry must feel so lonely.

   He gets out of his car, once again unfolding his umbrella to hold over his head. If Harry’s house really is just four houses down, then Louis surely won’t need his car.

   “Thanks mate. How’s Zayn handling his hangover, then?” Louis asks, wanting to keep up the conversation until he got to Harry’s door.

   “Uh,” Niall says, uncertainly, and more shifting occurs as whispers transpires between Niall and another.

   “Oh, I’m guessing you got lucky with someone? You haven’t called Zayn yet?” Louis almost slips on the watery ground, drops pattering on the surface. It’s still raining pretty heavily, but thankfully enough, Louis manages to not get his hair wet. His quiff curls into a tiny swirl at the top, though, because of the humidity in the air.

   “You could say that I did, yeah. I haven’t called him, no…” Niall is speaking slowly and hesitantly; he’s keeping something from Louis.

   Louis is close to Harry’s house, now and he maintains a conversation with Niall, still curious about what he possibly could be hiding. “I’ll call Zayn later to check up on him.”

   “Zayn’s fine,” Niall blurts out and Louis can hear him slap something; his forehead?

   “I thought you hadn’t called him yet?” Louis is suspicious about this whole thing. Niall is definitely hiding something. A burst of incoherent babble is flung from Niall’s mouth.

   “Uh, umm, he crashed at my house. I mean, I crashed at his house. I gotta go, now. Bye,” Niall hangs up abruptly and Louis is left staring dumbfound at his phone. He shakes his head and shoves it in his bag.

   He hops up on the front porch of Harry’s house and knocks on the door. He has a feeling Harry is up, probably doing some reading. There is a shuffle from behind the door and Louis expects glasses and a tight sweater vest and a black tie, like usual. Louis could not be less prepared.

   The door is flung open, a disgruntled half-naked boy standing where Louis thought he’d see Harry. This boy couldn’t be more different.

   His hair is a mess of chocolate brown curls perched atop his head and his green eyes are sharp but tired as they squint at Louis. His bare chest is littered with tattoos, more of them lining his left arm and wrist. He is incredibly fit and his sweats are hanging so low on his hips, Louis can see the prominent V line. The boy rubs his face and scratches his collarbones.

   “Louis?” his voice is so incredibly deep and it sparks arousal in Louis’ body. It is also very familiar.

   “Harry?” Louis can’t help the disbelieving tone as he exclaims.

   “What are you doing here so early?” Harry asks and it is close to make Louis’ knees weaken. Louis is certain there is a shocked expression on his face.

   “It’s lunch time,” Louis says slowly. He digs his French textbooks out in a daze and waves them in front Harry, who squints, leaning his forehead against the door.

   “I repeat, why so _early?_ ” He groans out the last word and Louis lets out an involuntary moan at the deep huskiness. Apparently, Harry didn’t hear as he backs away, gesturing for Louis to come in. He grabs a Jack Wills jumper from one of the shelves and pulls it over his head, shielding his chest from Louis’ hungry gaze. “Go sit at the counter in the kitchen, I’ll get my notebook.”

   The kitchen is light and open, an island in the middle. Louis doesn’t really spend a lot of time in kitchens; he’s not allowed to, because he just breaks things. Louis sets his books and bag down carefully on the counter-top, hopping up into one of the high chairs. The seat of the chair is higher than Louis’ hips and he has to hold on to the counter to hoist himself up.

   Harry emerges from the doorway and easily sits in one of the chairs. His legs are so much longer than Louis’ and the blue-eyed boy can’t believe how he’s not noticed them before. He’s sitting very close and Louis catches the scent of him. It’s fresh and strong and smells vaguely like green apples.

   “Well, I guess we should get started with the basics. What is it you’re having trouble with?” Harry draws a pencil from his notebook and taps the cover of it. Louis coughs.

  “I sort of stopped paying attention when we started junior year,” Louis says sheepishly. Harry stares at him incredulously. Louis chews on his lip and he sees Harry’s eyes follow the motion. He clears his throat roughly and returns to tapping with his pencil.

   “So, we start from the beginning, then. Sort of.”

   Louis nods in affirmation. Harry opens up his notebook and places the tip of his pencil on the paper. Louis leans closer to see what he’s writing and it causes the curly-haired boy to jerk, breaking off the tip. Louis swallows hard and reaches for the pencil sharpener, holding it out to Harry. He takes it from him and Louis blinks at how big Harry’s hands are, compared to his own.

   Harry leans in closer, cheeks tinged pink. Their faces are inches apart; they’re breathing the same air. Harry gulps and is about to pull away, about to make some excuse to leave the room to calm down, but Louis grabs the back of his neck, closing the distance between them.

   Their lips crash and mold together. It's sloppy and their teeth nip and nick at each other so Harry turns to face him, slotting their legs together and making it easier for them to move with one another. Louis’ hand comes up to thread through and grip at Harry’s curls. Without all the gel and wax in it, it’s so soft and Louis revels in the mewls Harry makes against his mouth.

   Harry’s hands travel to Louis’ back, pushing his shirt up and thumbing at his smooth skin. "Is this okay?" He mumbles against his lips and Louis nods. He stands from his chair, stepping in between Louis’ knees, which tighten around him instinctively. He pushes the denim off of Louis’ shoulders and pulls his shirt over his head, returning his hands to Louis’ back, this time meeting no resistance. He looks at Louis’ naked chest and breathes in.

   “You’re gorgeous, you know that, right?”

   Louis blushes and tugs on his curls. Harry is having none of that as he bends down to capture one nipple in his mouth. He nips and nibbles at it, making it puffy. He didn’t expect Louis’ nipples to be quite so sensitive, though, but it’s clearly a pleasure for Louis, as he arches into the touch. Harry bites down on them, then, laving his tongue over the hardened buds, soothes them. Louis’ skin is hot to the touch and Harry caresses his back and sides, before moving his hands down to the obvious bulge in Louis’ jeans. He palms it for a few moments until Louis is bucking into his hand and moaning loudly.

   Louis tugs at the hem of Harry’s jumper, swiftly yanking it over his head and dropping it carelessly to the floor. He runs his hands over his tattoos, marveling in the treasures that have been hidden from Louis for so long. He leans forward to dig his teeth into the swallows up on Harry’s collarbones and the boy groans in response, cradling Louis’ head. He shoves his hands under Louis’ thighs, hoisting him up and he is thankful for the immediate reflex that causes Louis’ legs to tighten around his waist. Louis buries his face in Harry’s neck, sucking marks and biting down on them.

   Harry rakes his fingers down Louis’ back and the boy arches in his grasp. He moves away from the counter, grinding his hips into the other’s.

   “Bedroom?”

   Louis grips Harry’s hair harder and that causes him to practically sprint up the stairs to his bedroom. Louis really doesn’t weigh that much; he’s soft and pliant in his arms and he tosses him onto the bed. Harry lowers himself atop Louis and seeks out his nipples again. They are so sensitive, now and even more puffed up and swollen than before.

   Harry sucks on each one, hard as he unzips Louis jeans, impatiently. He knows they are tight so he doesn’t waste time in yanking them as hard as he can down Louis’ thighs, pulling them off with his briefs completely.

   Louis is naked on the bed, now, arching his back in the most obscene way Harry can think of and his cock is flushed a deep red. His hands grip at the sheets when Harry, once more, bites down on a nipple before taking Louis in his hand, stroking him.

   Seeing Louis like this, like he’s wanted him to be for the past two years, is doing things to Harry’s mind. He pulls his sweats of in a daze, keeping his eyes on Louis’ body the whole time. When he’s as naked as Louis is, he fetches a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand.

    He slicks up three fingers, tossing the bottle up by Louis’ head before nudging it against his rim. He draws Louis’ legs up to hitch them around his waist and pushes his finger inside.

   Louis sucks in a sharp breath, holding onto Harry’s bicep. This is killing Harry, because he wants to be inside Louis, _now._ He’s not the only one who’s impatient either. Louis is bucking his hips up, murmuring Harry’s name over and over.

   “Aller vite,” slips from Louis’ mouth. Harry’s mouth drops open. That’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard Louis say. The words settle so nicely in Louis’ tongue; he’s a good speaker, Harry can tell.

   “So you do know some French,” Harry nibbles at Louis jawline.

   Louis growls. “Just, come on.”

   Harry groans, sliding a condom on, slicking his cock up, and lining it with Louis’ entrance. Louis grabs at Harry’s shoulder, making him bend over Louis’ body, molding himself to him. The tip of his cock pops in and they both gasp out. Harry doesn’t stop, but pushes in until his hips are settled against the back of Louis’ thighs.

   He bucks his hips, rolling them slightly. He slides out, almost all the way and pauses there. He’s waiting for Louis to give him the okay and he does, by tugging at Harry’s hair.

   “Please,” he whimpers. Harry grins against his neck, slamming his hips into Louis, making him cry out.

    Louis claws at Harry’s shoulders. “Yes, yes. Don’t stop,” he hisses in his ear. Harry digs his fingers into Louis’ sides.

    “Get on your hands and knees,” he growls in the boy’s ear, pulling out. Louis whimpers, turning onto his front. Harry pushes in, only a few inches and then, roughly shoves in. Louis keens, arching his back and gripping the sheets. He bites down on one of the pillows, muffling his scream.

   Harry places one of his hands on Louis’ hip, pistons into him over and over again. The other he grips Louis’ hair with, pulling his head back. He bites at Louis’ ear, pounding into him repeatedly. Louis cries out, trying to cover his mouth to prevent his screams from leaking out. Harry yanks on his hair.

   “Stop. I want to hear you. Want to hear you scream my name,” Harry growls, sinking his teeth into Louis’ shoulder as he reaches around him to wrap his large hand around his cock, pumping him rapidly.

   “Harry!” Louis shouts, pleasure streaking through him as he comes on the sheets.

   “Good boy,” Harry murmurs before groaning and releasing into the condom, crying out Louis’ name.

   After disposing of the condom, he curls around Louis’ back, tucking them both under the sheets. He knows they will be sticky, but neither of them care as they hold each other close.

   “Jeezus, who are you and what have you done with Harry?” Louis says.

   Harry chuckles, kissing Louis’ neck.  


	2. What the hell is going on?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis wants answers from Zayn and Niall and, more importantly, he wants Harry.

   What wakes Louis up is close-to-unbearable heat. The boy isn’t used to this kind of warmth. An arm, a tattooed one at that, is heavily draped over Louis’ waist. It is holding him firmly to the body pressed to his back. Louis snuggles back into the embrace that is clamping around him so tightly.

   “Lou,” A deep voice rumbles and it reverbs in Louis’ bones. It reminds him vaguely of someone he knows. Someone who he spares only a few glances per day.

   Louis flicks his eyelids up, tensing his body. His eyes fasten on the wrist holding his own and he sees small patches of black ink spattered here and there; tattoos. Harry’s tattoos.

   The boy behind him is breathing down the back of his neck. He’s talking in his sleep. He’s murmuring Louis’ name repeatedly, clenching his fists again and again. The muscles in his arm jump as he moves and nestles closer. Louis rakes his nails gently over the skin on Harry’s forearm, brushing over the slight dusting of hair there. It’s so soft and deliciously warm with Harry; Louis can’t help but breathe out and rest his forehead on the boy’s arm. The two inhale and exhale at the same rate, synchronized. Louis falls back asleep at a rapid pace, feeling nothing but comfort.

   

Louis blinks. It is surprisingly dark outside for being the middle of the day, Louis thinks as he looks out the window. He checks the clock on his phone just to be sure and when he does, it is past seven o’clock, dinnertime.

   _Oh shit,_ Louis thinks. He was supposed to be home, to help with the girls, a half-hour ago. Louis panics, eyes wide and going over escape plans in his head. The only thing on his mind right now is getting home to his sisters.

   He slips out from under Harry’s arm, trying to be as gentle as possible. He allows himself to look at him for only a few seconds. His curly hair is spread around his head like a halo and his jaw is tense.

   _Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe about me,_ Louis thinks, smile on his face. His smile vanishes, though, when he realizes the meaning behind his thoughts. _Oh, shut up, you’re being stupid._

   He quickly gathers his stuff from random places around the room and wonders what hell they’d gotten up to earlier. He found his pants draped over a tall lamp, his briefs tangled inside. He yanks them on, hopping in the direction of the door. He bites his lip, turning to face Harry’s sleeping form.

   “I’m sorry,” he whispers, before inching the door open. Downstairs, he picks his books up, cradling them in his arms, finding his shirt on the floor and flinging his jacket over his shoulder. He doesn’t bother pulling his shoes on, he just sprints out of the house. His sole target is getting home.      

   The rain has stopped. The air is damp and thick and the two minute run to his house makes the oxygen clog in his throat. Finally inside, he calls out to his mum.

   “I’m so sorry I’m late. I got hung up over at my…friend’s.”

   Louis doesn’t know what to call Harry. It was just one time, will it ever happen again? His heart skips a beat and as he feels something close to dread and horror spread through him, he knows that he doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing. Louis has always regarded Harry from a distance, afraid to get close, because Louis’ past relationships haven’t always had great outcomes. Louis knew the second he’d laid eyes on that green-eyed boy, that he was someone he could fall in love with.

   That is the dangerous part. Falling in love. Louis has experienced enough heartbreak to last a lifetime. The problem is that, all of those have been Louis’ own fault; he hadn’t exactly chosen the best guys to rely on.

   “It’s fine. Was it Zayn?” Jay pops out from the living room. Behind her knees, two blond heads are bopping, peeking out at Louis. When the twins see him, they smile widely and clap their hands. They are wearing identical pink onesies and Louis snickers at the sight of them.

   “No, it wasn’t him…” Louis frowns, the thought of the weird phone call with Niall this morning, popping into his mind. He has to call Zayn, later. “It was Harry. He’s tutoring me. In French. Which I’m failing, by the way.”

   Jay laughs. “Yeah, I heard. Your teacher called earlier. He wanted to know if you’d found a tutor, yet. I guess you have, then.”

   “Mhm, sorry I didn’t tell you, sooner,” Louis sheepishly looks at her. Jay steps up to him, patting his jaw affectionately.

   “It’s okay. You’ve been busy.”

   Louis chews on the inside of his cheek. “Let me know when you leave. I’ll take care of the girls.” He bounds up the stairs to his room, bringing out his phone and dialing Zayn’s number. It takes longer than usual, but he picks up eventually.

   “Um, hey, Louis,” the Bradford boy’s accent is deep and lilting and even hesitant as he greets Louis.

   _Jeesus, what is up with these boys?_ Louis is getting kind of annoyed. Not only is Niall, one of his best friends keeping secrets from him, but his other closest confident, Zayn, is doing the exact same thing. Louis doesn’t feel good about this; he feels out of loop, out of place.

   “Hi, how’s it going? Still hung over?” Louis asks, plucking at the sheets of his bed.

   “Um, yeah, me and Niall hit it pretty hard yesterday,” Zayn says and there is an immediate choking noise in the background, followed by a coughing fit. Louis frowns.

   “What’s going on?” Louis is concerned.

   “Uh, Niall’s here. Still pretty hung over, too. Do you wanna talk to him? Here ya go,” Zayn practically blurts out and there is a pause as whispers erupt on Zayn’s side of the line. “Take it.”

   It is clearly meant for someone other than Louis as another voice hisses, “Don’t want it! You talk to him!”

   Air swooshes sharply in Louis’ ear and he’s wondering what the hell they’re doing; tossing the phone back and forth? “Well, somebody better talk to me, now, because I wanna know what the fuck’s going on?”

   He raises his voice at the end.

   “We’re sorry, Lou,” Niall pipes up.

   “We’ll explain everything some other time, okay?” Zayn adds and Louis figures he’s on speaker. He’s close to shouting that it’s not okay, that he’s bloody confused by this whole thing, but he says nothing about that.

   “Fine,” says Louis, quietly and hangs up.

   A couple of hours later, when dinner is eaten and Jay has left for work, Louis is cradling the twins in his lap, rocking them from side to side. Lottie and Fizz are asleep on either side of him, snoring slightly and Louis is wondering what the hell’s happening with his life.

***

It is Monday and Louis is anxious to see his friends. He needs answers more than anything right now and the only place he can get them is from Zayn and Niall.

   He finds the pair leaning against their lockers, whispering with their bodies close together. Zayn is sporting his regular quiff and Niall has his swept up and to the side, much like Zayn’s. They have even matched their outfits, somewhat. The only difference is that Zayn’s is slightly darker colors. They both wear letterman jackets, with their names printed on the back, with dark jeans and dark t-shirts.

   _God, this is so weird,_ Louis thinks to himself. He walks right up to them and the minute they see him, they spring apart. Louis narrows his eyes suspiciously and crosses his arms when he reaches them.

   The boys don’t say much; they just wordlessly pass from one lesson to the next and Louis is growing more irritated by the second. They’ve now been through the first part of the day and are heading to lunch, but Louis is impatient and grabs the two other boys, dragging them outside, towards the back. He stands them up against a wall, hands on his hips and a firm expression on his face. Zayn’s and Niall’s eyes were as wide as can be and they hovered near one another as if searching for each other’s comfort.   

   “What’s going on, Louis?” Zayn says, unknowingly pressing his shoulder to Niall’s.

   Louis huffs and points a finger at the both of them. “No, don’t you go there. I’m the one who’s supposed to ask that question, not you. I’ve been going crazy. I understood when you didn’t want to talk on Saturday, because you were hung over, but then on Sunday when you, Niall, said you had to visit your grandmother, really shook me up. Niall, you have one grandmother and she lives in _America_. You’ve been quiet all day and I’m getting really worried.”

   Zayn and Niall are looking at their feet, refusing to look at Louis. The Irish boy bites his lip uncertainly, also avoiding Zayn’s sharp gaze. Louis frowns at the complete change of mood. Never has Niall not looked at Zayn. He has always searched for the particular boy’s eyes to lock with and only recently have they looked at each other with something more than common fondness.

   Zayn tries to push his hand at Niall’s, but the boy still won’t raise his head. He sighs and faces Louis, shoulders slumped. He shakes his head, slowly. “It’s nothing, really.”

   He storms off, leaving Louis and Niall alone.

   “Jeesus, what’s up with him?” Louis asks, trailing off slightly as he sees Niall’s face. The boy’s features are scrunched together so tightly, like he’s in pain. He is hunched forward and when Louis reaches out to touch him, he jerks back. Niall runs off, in the opposite direction of Zayn. Louis takes off after him and, when he reaches him, grabs hold of the boy’s arm and swiftly twists him around. His eyes widen as he takes in the boy’s appearance.

   His eyes are red-rimmed and cheeks flushed; that’s Niall’s cry-face and Louis cringes at the sight. He is so used to the Irish boy acting like a child; finding everything fascinating and wondrous. There have been only a few occasions where Louis has seen him cry.

   “Niall, what’s wrong? Please, tell me,” Louis pleads, both hands on his shoulders.

   “I love Zayn,” he whimpers. Louis cups his chin.

   “I love him, too. That’s why I need to know what’s going on with you and him.”

   Niall pulls back, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “No, you don’t get it. That’s why we never told you, because you wouldn’t understand. I _love_ Zayn. I’m in love with him.”

   Louis freezes in shock. Why hasn’t he seen this before? All the shared looks and touches that those boys have shared more often than usual; how could Louis be so oblivious? He’d never expected this, out of all the things that could have been.

   “How does Zayn feel?” Louis can’t help but ask. He’d seen the way Zayn has shrugged it off as nothing and then walked away. He wonders if Zayn is in as deep as Niall is.

   “He feels the same. He’s just afraid of what you’ll think of him,” Niall says quietly and, by the look on his face, he is surprised that Louis hasn’t acted out more. What did he expect; for Louis to shout, or protest? 

   “Afraid? I came out before you did. I’m the gay one! I was the one who used to be afraid of what you’d think of me,” Louis leans against the wall, puffing out breaths.

   “So, you’re not mad?” Niall asks quietly. Louis looks at him, shocked.

   “Of course I’m not! I love the both of you like brothers. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

   Niall seems satisfied with that answer as he sniffs, enveloping Louis in a hug. Louis claps him on the back, closing his eyes for a moment. He backs away, holding Niall at an arm’s length.

   “You should go after him. Let him know that I fully support you two. I have something to do, but I’ll catch you later, okay?” Louis smiles encouragingly and Niall gives him a confused expression.

   “Do what?”

   Louis bites his lip. Seeing the relief in Niall’s face, he doesn’t want to ruin that by telling him about Harry. “Tell you later.” He doesn’t give Niall much time to answer, but sprints off in the direction of the cafeteria.

   Since it is Monday, almost all the students are just relaxing, books and phones casually laid out across tables and chairs. They have their feet propped up on chairs, arms fixed behind their heads and eyes closed. Louis can understand their exhaustion. It is near the end of the school year and people are getting more and more tired. Even the guys on the football team are slowing down, which is something Louis can’t afford to do. That brings him back to his purpose. Harry.

   He finds him sitting, legs folded under him, focused on a book, again. He is alone at the table, piles of fruit and juice boxes stacked in front of him. His hair is slicked back, his glasses are on and he is wearing his usual sweater vest, buttoned tightly. Only Louis knows what’s under all that. His mind immediately travels back to Saturday.

   Harry’s hair had been curly and tangled in Louis’ fingers, the black ink standing out on his chest and arms as his body twisted and turned in sync with the boy under him. His hips had moved in precise motions against the back of Louis’ thighs. Lightning had struck in both of their bodies, making shivers wrack through them.

   The reminder causes a sharp strike of pleasure to roll and coil in Louis and has him stuttering in his steps towards Harry.  

   Harry doesn’t look up at him, even when he’s sitting across from him at the table and tapping his index finger on the surface. Louis frowns and tries to draw his attention. He takes the fork lying next to his plate and flicks it against the cover of Harry’s book. A sigh comes from him and he lowers the book. His face is completely devoid of emotion and his hands are clenching into fists.

   “What do you want?” his tone is rough and Louis can tell he is angry, but he doesn’t know what for. Louis laces his fingers together, in his lap.

   “I want to talk. You’re my tutor, remember?” The complete lack of expression in Harry’s face is worrying Louis. It makes him wonder if Louis really is the only one Harry’s ever ‘tutored’. What if Louis isn’t the first to see what is hidden under those sweater vests? The very thought of that makes Louis feel sick and he swallows hard.

   Harry scoffs. “I think we’re done with that.”                                                 

   Louis tilts his head to the side, confused. His fingers, still laced together are starting to shake. He cracks his knuckles nervously, ducking his chin. “What do you mean?”

   “I can’t tutor you anymore, Louis,” Harry exclaims, exasperated. “Not after what happened.”

   Louis is still confused and is pretty aware that his mouth is flopping open, searching for something- _anything_ \- to say. Harry senses this and dispels a sharp breath.

   “Louis, I heard you apologize when you left. I was awake. I know you do this with others, but I’m just not like that. I don’t do this,” Harry says, clenching the pages of his book, hard enough for Louis to hear paper rip. When Harry’s words settle in his mind, he perks up. His lips are parted.

   “What do you mean by that? Do _what_ with others?” Louis’ hands are no longer shaking as he watches Harry shrug.

   “Sleep around, I guess,” Harry stretches his arms out on the table. He might as well have punched Louis in the gut, by the way he reacts. Hurt flashes through Louis’ eyes. He jerks back, rising from his seat.

   “I don’t know where you got that information, but it’s not true. I am not a slut and I do not _sleep around_. I know other people think that of me, but I never once expected you to,” Louis’ voice breaks at the end. Of course, he’s heard the rumors spread about him and his past relationships, but he’d never seen Harry as one of those people to judge him.

   Louis leaves the cafeteria as fast as he can, not listening to Harry calling out his name.

***

It’s the last lesson of the day and the most feared.

   Biology.

   Only because, it is the one lesson Louis shares with Harry on Mondays. Niall and Zayn are standing on either side of him and their happiness is pretty much radiating off of them. As much as Louis loves the both of them, he feels sick. He knows they are sending those lovey-dovey looks at each other behind Louis’ back and it makes him roll his eyes.

   The teacher takes his place up by the board, twisting the cap of his pen. “Well, let’s get started. Everyone, join your partners for the dissecting.”

   That word sends a shiver through Louis. He hates this part; cutting up dead bodies of small animals. Niall and Zayn knock their shoulders together, heading off towards their table. Louis looks around. He can’t see Liam, his lab partner, anywhere.

   “Oh yes, Louis and Harry, your partners are sick today, so-“

   _No, no, don’t do this, please,_ Louis thinks.

   “-you two will just have to pair up.”

   Louis ducks his head, closing his eyes tightly. He rubs his temples and walking past Harry, takes a place almost at the back. He pulls a lab coat on and picks at the utensils. He feels, more than sees, Harry step up beside him and honestly, he is too close for Louis’ liking.

   “Louis, I-” Harry begins, but Louis cuts him off.

   “I really don’t want to talk, right now.”

    Harry chews on the skin on his finger. “We, kind of, have to. We can’t do the project without speaking.” Louis sighs heavily and nods, picking up a cutting knife and holding it out to Harry.

   “You wanna do the honors?” he spares a glance at Harry and nearly laughs out loud. His lab coat is too short, since his torso is so long, and it reaches only the top of his thighs. The buttons are done up wrong, one half seems longer than the other.

   “You don’t want to?” Harry asks. Louis shakes his head, shivering.  

   “I hate this. I’ll just end up sick,” he picks up the journal and a pen, jotting down his name and Harry’s. “I’ll take notes instead.” 

   Louis and Harry work around each other and soon, every motion in their bodies is completely in sync. There are a few times when Harry’s arm brushes the back of Louis’ hand, but, even as they both blush, they ignore it and continue working. Harry is becoming more and more agitated, Louis can tell.

   “Just say it. Whatever you’re holding in, just say it,” Louis blurts out, clutching the pen tightly in his hand. Harry perks up, eyes wide.

   “I didn’t mean what I said, earlier. I’ve never thought that about you, I was just angry. I thought you were using me,” Harry says, holding up a piece of meat. Louis gags and puts his hand atop Harry, lowering it back to the table. Harry blinks at the gesture, holding onto Louis’ hand, twining his fingers through his. Louis’ lips part. “I really am sorry.”

   “Me, too. I never explained why I had to leave,” Louis says, sliding his hand under Harry’s sleeve and thumbing where he knows his padlock tattoo is. “My mum is a nurse. She works the later shift and I was supposed to watch the girls and help with dinner. When I woke up with you, it was past seven and I was late. I should have woken you up, but all I could think of was my family. I hope you understand that.”

   Harry laughs, hiding his face, shoulders shaking. “Of course I understand. I was a complete jerk to you, when the reason you had to leave was to take care of your family. I feel like such an idiot.”

   Louis chuckles. “You’re not an idiot. I would’ve doubted me, too.”

   The lesson continues on like that, them laughing and occasionally flushing at the memories of Saturday’s happenings. They are more at ease now, exchanging jokes and comments. Louis reaches over to get the eraser when his arm bumps Harry and their heads are close together. His shoulder blade is resting against Harry’s collarbone and they both breathe in heavily. It is such a big reminder of what had happened between them on Saturday that they both feel hot flashes run through them.

   Louis gulps, bringing his arm back. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the bell. It rings sharply, startling Louis and making them jump. The teacher rises from his seat, calling out that class is dismissed, but Louis barely hears. He is too focused on Harry.

   The boys remove their lab coats and Louis watches as Harry looks at his reflection in the glass of one of the cabinets, smoothing his hair back and straightening his sweater vest. He watches him with a hunger in his gaze that Harry catches. His lips part and again, he chews on the loose skin of his finger.

   Taking hold of his books and Harry’s arm, Louis drags him out of the class and into a storage closet. He drops his books by the door, pulling Harry in by his tie and folding their lips together in a kiss. Harry seems to breathe out a sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and backs him against the wall.   

   Their bodies meld into one as they move and curve into one another. Louis arches his body into Harry’s touch, already hardening in his pants. He feels an undeniable need towards Harry and he needs him, now. He breathes out his name as Harry’s kisses travel to his neck, sucking bruises there. Louis slips a hand down to palm at Harry’s hardness.

   “Louis, we can’t- I mean, I don’t have any lube-” Harry is shushed by Louis’ biting at his collarbones. Louis has taken off Harry’s vest and shirt at a remarkable speed and is working on unbuttoning his pants. He groans out Louis’ name and gives in to his touch. Soon enough, they are completely naked except for Harry’s boxers.

   Louis doesn’t waste time in falling to his knees, dragging them down with him, leaving Harry fully exposed. He takes Harry’s cock, red and flushed, in his hand and gliding his hand up and down a few times before taking the head in his mouth. He suckles on it for a few seconds before sinking down as far as he can. He gags with a few inches left and Harry can see his eyes tear up. He threads his fingers through Louis’ hair.

   “Lou, you don’t have to-” Harry says, but Louis pushes at his hand, relaxing his throat and sliding down those few inches. Harry definitely didn’t expect that and chokes off. He grips harder at Louis’ feathery soft hair and it causes him to moan around him. “Fuck, Louis.”

   Louis digs his thumbs into Harry’s V-line and bobs his head, dragging his tongue on the underside each time.  

   “Jeesus,” Harry breathes. Louis pulls off completely and gets up from his knees. He trails one hand up to fist in Harry’s curls and the other he teasingly drags up his back. Harry reaches around to trace a dry finger against the rim of Louis’ hole. “I want to take you right here, up against the wall. I’d fuck you so good.”

   Louis whimpers, letting his forehead fall to Harry’s collarbones. “Please.” It’s come to a point where he’s nearly begging, arching his body almost obscenely into Harry’s.

   The green-eyed boy clucks his tongue as he strokes down Louis’ thighs, dragging his nails. “But I can’t. Not here.”

   Louis sobs, pulling Harry closer and, reaching down, closing his hand around both his and Harry’s hard cocks. He can’t fit one palm around them both so he has to use two. Harry groans, resting his cheek on Louis’. He pumps them at a fast pace and he is so good with his fingers. He keeps a perfect pressure and his skin is so soft.

   Louis ducks his head and spits in his palm, making it easier to glide over them.

   “Shit,” Harry curses, leaning down, brushing his lips over the skin of his neck, causing the boy to moan out, pumping faster. The taller boy bucks into the tight fist, calling out Louis’ name. He spurts in white stripes on Louis’ stomach as he comes, panting into his neck with both hands on the wall on either side of Louis’ head. He looks down to see Louis still hard and an angry red; he hasn’t come yet.

   Harry thumbs at the tip, licking his lips. He grabs Louis’ cock in his large palm and slides it up and down, looking at Louis’ face. The boy’s eyes are open, a sparkling, shocking blue and his lips are swollen and his hair tangled atop his head, which is thrown back in pleasure. Harry taps a finger to Louis’ rim, again and suddenly, an idea pops into his head.

   He grabs Louis’ hips, yanking him to face the wall and he gets down onto his knees. He pulls Louis’ cheeks apart, biting his lip when he sees Louis’ pink, clenching hole. He drags his finger across it, and, without any notice, licks a stripe from it to the dimples in his lower back. Louis claws at the wall.

   “Fuck, Harry,” he groans out, his voice coming out more high-pitched than he wanted it to. “More.”

   Harry bites and sucks a mark into Louis’ left cheek, causing the boy to buck his hips back into the sharp sting. He traces the tip of his tongue around his rim, only letting it slip in once, teasing the boy. Louis’ forehead is braced on his arms, thighs quivering and chest heaving. He lets out these little whimpers that drive Harry insane. He kisses a line down to Louis’ balls before travelling up half-way on his spine.

   Louis is practically sobbing; he needs relief.

   “Harry, please,” he begs. Harry grins, sinking his teeth into the skin of his perfect cheeks, before pulling them apart and roughly shoving his tongue in as far as it can go in one thrust. Louis cries out and Harry knows it burns a little, because it’s not enough lubricant, but it feels damn good, judging from Louis’s moans and whimpers. He bucks his hips, reaching down to his cock for some friction.

   Harry notices this and grips Louis’ hips, pulling him back onto his tongue as he stiffens it. He slaps Louis’s hand away when he feels that he is close to coming, denying him of it. He barely gets his mouth back on him, before Louis sinks to the ground, turning so his side faces the wall and arches his back so his arse sticks right up in the air. Harry moans and cradles his hips in his hands, kissing his way back to Louis’ bum. On his knees, he leans down and plunges his tongue in, again and again, making Louis cry out repeatedly with every thrust.

   Harry lifts Louis’ hips up, giving himself easier access and allowing him to fuck Louis deeper. The poor boy is panting, biting down on his hand, in desperate need of release. 

   “Come on, Lou. Cum for me,” Harry growls in that deep voice, that he knows makes Louis weak in the knees. The blue-eyed boy shouts out, coming hard and spurting across the floor. Louis collapses, exhausted. Harry lies next to him, rubbing circles into his back.

   They lay there for another minute or two, calming down and catching their breath. Louis has snuggled into Harry’s side, trailing sweet kisses up his arms, neck and across his collarbones. Harry massages Louis’ shoulders, just enjoying the smooth feel of his skin against his own. Eventually, he clears his throat.

   “Louis, we should probably go. I think Niall and Zayn are looking for you,” he says, inhaling the smell of Louis’ hair.

   The boy just laughs in response, scooting in closer to him. “Screw them. They’re probably making out in Z’s car, right now.”

   Harry snorts, chuckling. “Want me to drive you home?” Louis looks up lovingly at the boy next to him, remembering the first time he’d seen him with mussed up hair and bare-chested. He smiles.

   “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue, don't worry.


	3. Is This Really What You Want?

   _Harry, you don’t have to do this. I don’t care about that._

Louis’ text sends tingles running through Harry’s body. He bites his lip, looking up at the mirror. He’s been thinking about this for a while, now. Especially now that Louis is in the picture, showing his real appearance is the best thing to do. He can’t pretend when he’s around. He’s like an anchor; keeping him tied to the real world. He knows that Louis doesn’t mind the whole sweater vest and tie, but he’s honestly ready to get rid of the whole charade.     

   He doesn’t even know how it all began. He’d gone to school one morning, all fixed up, thanks to his mum. He’d arrived with slicked-back hair and a tie. People immediately pegged him as the dork. Instead of putting on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, like any other teenager, Harry kept dressing like that all through freshman year and eventually, it became a habit.

   He started to regret dressing like a dork, right about when he fell, hard, for Louis Tomlinson, captain of the football team and the most gorgeous guy in the whole school. He regretted not getting noticed by him and even though Louis reassures him that he in fact was, Harry knows he was never really visible to him.

   So, this is best. Harry wants this.

 

It is Wednesday. Louis had stayed over at Harry’s house for dinner and a movie yesterday. Harry’s parents and sister were still out on vacation and Harry had the house to himself. He had invited Louis over and they watched Love Actually.

   Well, they tried to. They just made out in the couch the whole time and that led to further shenanigans in the bedroom. Louis had left in time for him to take care of his sisters, since his mum worked the late shift again.

   Now, it is morning, before school and Harry is contemplating his hair in the mirror. What the heck is he supposed to do with it now? He’s just showered and it is hanging in strands over his forehead. He picks up the hair dryer he borrowed from his sister. He plugs it in and quickly blow-dries his hair out.

   After a few minutes, he gets it all dry and it perches atop his head, curling at the front and sides. He squints at it, picking up a stray curl that swooped over his brow. He tries putting a little wax in it, but it just ended up sticking out in every direction. Harry usually has some skills with wax and gels, but with his hair as curly as it is now, it feels nearly impossible.

   Harry washes his hair out, again and decides to skip the wax. He just shakes it out and brushes it to one side, going for the more natural look, since nothing else seems to be working for him. Louis likes the mussed up look, anyways. Sometimes, when it’s just them, he rakes his fingers through them, just to feel the softness and Harry hums in delight, accepting the touch warmly.

   Harry pulls on the black jeans he’d found, way down in a drawer and tugs them on. It proves to be some difficulty, since they are so damn tight. He manages to get them past his thighs and buttons them hastily. He breathes out heavily.

   _Bloody hell,_ he thinks. _How does Louis do this every single morning?_  

   He finds a gray t-shirt he’d gotten at a charity event he’d helped his mum with once. It has faded somewhat, but it is comfortable. He flings the doors to his closet open and digs out his worn out boots. He sighs happily when he pulls them on. He’s never felt this relaxed on a weekday morning. It has always been the same old habits; get up, take a shower, straighten his curls, slick them back and on with his vest and tie.

   Now, it’s so different. It’s nice.

   Harry has a little more time before school starts so he calls Louis. They have planned for today to be their coming-out day. The school already knows that Louis is gay and they probably have some suspicion that Harry is, too. Today, they’re going to be a couple for the school to see.

   “Hey, love, what’s going on?” Louis picks up almost the second Harry puts the phone up to his ear. He smiles, thumbing at the gray beanie Louis left behind yesterday.

   “Hi, nothing much, I’m just getting ready. Would you mind giving me a ride to school? I mean, if you still want this.”

   “Of course. I really wish you’d stop doubting that,” Louis voice is quiet and Harry can tell he’s hurt. Louis wants nothing more than for Harry to trust him completely. “I’ll be there in five. Love you, babe.”

   “Love you, too,” Harry says, grinning to himself. He shoves his phone into the tight pocket of his jeans. He weighs the beanie in his palms, remembering how little and delicate yet strong and tough Louis had looked in it. He walks with it to the mirror and tugs it down over his curls. They stick out a bit at the sides and at the front, but Harry likes this. He looks relaxed and more like himself.

   He pushes his wallet down his back pocket. He takes his keys from the hallway counter and opens the door. Louis’ car is perched in the driveway, the engine humming. He smiles, locking the door behind him and getting into the vehicle. He is fairly aware that Louis is openly gazing at him with hunger and heat in his eyes.

   Louis loves him like this; effortlessly good-looking. His baby curls are sticking out and Louis wants to twirl them around his pinky. Something that brings possessiveness to him is the fact that Harry is wearing _his_ beanie. Louis stifles a groan, shifting the car into gear and backing out of the driveway. He only gets the car to move a few inches when he suddenly slams the brakes and abruptly leans over the console and smashes their lips together.

   Harry moans into his mouth, flexing his hand to cover the side of Louis’ face. He nibbles on the boy’s lips and Louis whimpers in response. He clutches at his shirt and clumsily climbs over the console to set down in Harry’s lap. His palms roam all over Harry’s chest, reaching up to curl into fists in his hair and sliding down to claw at his abs. He grinds down and Harry throws his head back, panting.

   “How much time do we have until school starts?” Louis gasps out. Harry checks his watch and tugs at his bottom lip with his fingers. He moans when Louis determinedly pulls his fingers away and gnaws on it instead.

   “Thirty minutes.”  

   “Do you think you can fuck me and make me come in twenty?”

   Harry laughs and smashes their lips together. “I can make you come in ten.” His hands make their way down to Louis’ bum and he kneads them roughly. Louis lets out a guttural moan. He swats his hands away and climbs back over the console, jeans straining at the crotch, sets the car into park and turns the key in the ignition. The rumble of the motor dies down and Louis looks over to Harry.

   “I’m taking you up on that,” he says and the boys run out, into the house, chasing each other up to Harry’s room.           

 

 

They arrive at the school slightly rumpled and red-faced, but happy nonetheless. Harry is close to grinning his face off and Louis is giggling, hiding his face. Coming out of the car, they hang all over each other, laughing ridiculously.

   Harry can feel Louis’ hand shaking with nervousness as he holds it in his, but he’s smiling anyways, eyes bright. Harry runs his thumbs comfortingly over the back of it and Louis gives a weak smile. They can feel the stares on their backs, but they try not to pay much attention to it. They distract each other with light touches and gentle kisses and warm embraces.

   Half of the people are wondering who the boy next to Louis is, but others are whispering Harry’s name confusedly among themselves. The two boys meet Niall and Zayn down the hall, by their lockers and they all greet each other with happy smiles and grins. But Niall’s grin fades into a wicked display of full rows of teeth as he catches Louis’ pink face and Harry’s dazed eyes.

   “You fucked this morning, didn’t you?”

   Louis shushes him, blushing harder than he did before. Students around them give them weird glances and whispers erupt again. Harry chuckles and nuzzles his nose into his neck. Niall and Zayn erupt into loud laughs, clutching each other tightly. Louis swats them both.

    “Sod off. It’s probably no different than what you did this morning,” Louis retorts, huffing. His expression sobers, though, as he sees them look guiltily at one another, fiddling with their clothing. He gives them a disbelieving look. “You didn’t?”

   Niall shifts on his feet. “Um, don’t you think we should go to class, now?” He is totally avoiding the question and Louis squints at him and holds Harry’s hand. He shakes his head, clucking his tongue.

   “Double standards, Niall,” he scolds and Harry laughs, walking away with him to class.

***

Later that day, Louis and Niall have football practice. Harry decides to tag along, sitting down in the bleachers.

   Louis is teasing him. His shorts are cut above the knee, made of thin material, showing off a bit of leg. It is a hot day outside and Louis has taken off his team shirt and is just wearing his tight, close-to-the-body polyamide, elastic fabric. It clings to Louis’ torso like a second skin and Harry can’t help but stare. Louis shoots him a glance and winks at him and Harry fumes.

   Making sure he’s still watching; Harry pulls his t-shirt over his head, exposing his chest and tattoos. The beanie slides to the side a little and he takes it off momentarily to shake his hair out. He tugs it back down over his curls again and then folds his arms behind his head, leaning back to lie down on the bench.

   “Hey, Louis,” Harry hears Niall shout. “Focus on the balls! The ones in front of you; thank you very much.”

   Harry hides his loud guffaws in the crook of his elbow.      

   “Shut up, Ni!” Louis clearly doesn’t have a good retort this time and he kicks the ball clumsily, but it lands in the net anyway. The sun is burning on Harry’s skin, tanning him. He turns over onto his stomach, letting his back get some of the heat. He tenses his muscles and rolls his shoulders, just the way he knows causes trouble in Louis’ shorts.          

   Harry is so relaxed and close to falling asleep. He has no clue of how much time has passed, but he gets an idea when he feels a weight settle on his hips. Hands massage his shoulders, pushing patterns into his skin. Harry exhales, flexing his muscles and taunting the boy straddling him.

   “You are such a fucking tease,” Louis growls in his ear. He bites down where Harry’s neck and shoulder meet and the boy slumps in response, groaning. Harry slaps Louis’ leg, motioning for him to rise up. Louis doesn’t get off fully, though. He just lifts his body so none of the weight lies on Harry. The curly-haired boy twists around and Louis immediately sets down atop his crotch. Harry responds and hardens. He’s been on edge ever since he saw Louis emerge from the locker room, in his football kit. Harry slides his hands over his thighs and clamps down on them, making Louis gasp. He trails them up, under Louis’ tight undershirt and scratches at his toned stomach.

   “You’re one to talk,” Harry says lowly and Louis moans, rocking back and forth. He sits up, cradling Louis in his lap and nibbles on his collarbones, leaving small red marks. Louis rubs Harry’s shoulders and leans his cheek to his.

   “I want you to take me to the car and fuck me in the backseat,” he says, pinching one of Harry’s nipples. Harry keens and drags his teeth across his jawline.

   Harry practically flies off the bench, flinging the t-shirt over his shoulder and dragging Louis behind him to the parking lot. He presses his boyfriend to the door of the car, trying to unlock it, but with Louis unbuckling his belt and slipping his hand inside his pants, he fumbles. He gasps as Louis’ hand settles around his cock, half pulling it out and thumbing at the tip.

   “Damn it,” he curses and finally gets the right key. The car bleeps and Harry opens the door to the backseat, pushing Louis inside, getting in and shutting it behind him. He wrestles him down into the cushion, yanking his shorts and shirt off, grinding down on him hard and Louis whimpers, driving Harry mad. He pushes his jeans and boxers off fully, pumping his cock a little until Louis slaps his hand away and grabs at it, tugging it towards him. Harry complies and sets his knees on either side of Louis’ chest.

   “God, you’re so fucking big,” Louis moans out and slurps the tip into his mouth. Harry arches his back as much as he can in the cramped space. Louis places his hands on the back of Harry’s thighs, keeping him steady as he sinks down, taking him deeper into his mouth. His eyes are locked on Harry’s and he looks so good like this, Harry can’t think straight. His throat is tight around him and his lips keep the perfect amount of pressure as he bobs up and down, Harry hitting the back of his throat each time. The wet heat surrounding him is quickly bringing him to the edge and he grabs fistfuls of Louis’ sweaty strands and bucks into it.

   “Uh, fuck, you look so good like this,” Harry growls and Louis hums, causing vibrations to run up the length of his cock and Harry speeds up, watching as his cock stretches his lips so sinfully. He tugs at Louis’ hair and fucks his throat. His eyes are tearing up and spilling over; such a pretty shade of blue and Louis’ gag reflex is closing around him so tightly every time he pushes in.

   Harry sets one hand free so he can stick three fingers into his own mouth, wetting them sufficiently. He has a feeling Louis is still stretched out from this morning. He continues his deep thrusts as he reaches behind himself to find Louis’ hole.

   He was right; Louis’ rim is still a little loose, but also tight as they clench around his fingers. He can feel Louis’ whimpers vibrate as he shoves inside deep before pulling out and lifting him onto his lap.

   Louis is gasping, lips a deep, abused red. His face is flushed and he dazedly kisses Harry’s neck. Louis loves this; he loves it when Harry manhandles him like this. He acts so innocent in school, giggling like a child when he holds Louis’ hand, but when it’s just the two of them, Louis wants it hard and Harry is willing to give it.

   Louis clutches his shoulders when he pushes inside half-way before slamming in roughly the rest. He cries out, wincing slightly from the pain, but Louis wants it. God, he wants this so bad.

   He bounces in Harry’s lap, tensing his legs and swiveling his hips, just how he knows Harry likes it. One of his hands reaches behind him to grasp the front seat, maintaining his balance. Harry’s come up to fold behind his head, watching hungrily as Louis fucks himself down on Harry’s cock.

   Louis’ whole body bobs as he twists his hips, trying frantically to find that sweet spot inside him that will trigger his release. He wants to cum so bad at this point, but Harry isn’t doing anything. He’s just raking his gaze all over Louis’ shaking body. Louis’ thighs are quivering from over-exhaustion and he slumps forward on Harry’s chest.

   “Please, do something,” he begs. Harry just presses a kiss to his neck, silently encouraging him. Louis whines and swivels his hips again, wondering what he’s waiting for. He places his hands on his shoulder, lifting himself and dropping down. Unintentionally, his hips jerk from tiredness and it causes Harry’s cock to slide deliciously over his prostate. He gasps and freezes, head thrown back in pleasure. He feels Harry’s palms sliding over his hips, finally touching him. He bucks up, hitting the spot and Louis realizes.

   _Oh, this is what he was waiting for._

   Harry pulls Louis to his body, letting the boy’s head fall on his shoulder and winds his arms around his waist. He plants his feet firmly on the floor of the car and shoves up, slamming his hips right into that one spot. Louis cries out over and over again as Harry relentlessly pounds into him. He claws at Harry’s chest and tugs at his own hair. He honestly has no idea what to do with his hands; Harry’s thrusts are overwhelming him. The angle is perfect and Louis sinks his teeth into the skin under Harry’s jaw before rearing up, arching his back and clapping one hand to the window.

   Harry grabs hold of Louis’ hair with one hand, yanking his head back, stretching his body out obscenely yet deliciously. The other he wraps around his cock, bringing him right to the edge. He latches onto and bites down on one of his nipples and that’s what pushes the boy over.

   “Harry!”       

   He doesn’t stop slamming into him, even after the boy has already come. Louis is whining with oversensitivity, but he lets Harry desperately chase his release. He’s so close and his sharp thrusts are getting sloppier, but when Louis digs his nails into his scalp, drags a finger through the cum on his stomach and licks it off, sucking it between those plump lips of his, the sting and sheer hotness of it is enough to trigger it. He shoots deep inside Louis, crying out.

   They cling to each other, panting.

   “Well, this was a successful day,” Louis rasps and Harry chuckles against his neck. "I gotta tell you, though. I liked the dress pants better. They were easier to get off."     

   Harry bursts out in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr name is: Support-the-ships  
> Thanks for Reading xx


	4. Is This Our Happy Ending?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick addition to how I think their relationship should end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone wanted more to their story than just to end with sex so here is just fluff really and random things that I put in. It's rather short though. xx

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing it,”

   Harry and Louis are in the school corridor, waiting for the coach to open up his office. Louis is leaning against the wall, his boyfriend in front of him, swinging their clasped hands from side to side. On both of their ring fingers on their left hands, there sits promise rings. On Valentine’s Day just a few months back, Harry had taken them to open field, that still had patches of snow covering the ground and Louis had complained and complained about feeling cold, but when Harry had tapped a finger against his chin and lifted it so their eyes could meet and brought out his wallet because he couldn’t find a box pretty enough for the rings, Louis suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore. And Harry had sheepishly held them out in his hand, nose red from the cold and cheeks rosy. They are simple silver bands. Louis’ has a tiny green emerald in it and Harry’s has a just as small blue sapphire right in the middle. Harry had said that the colour would remind him of Louis’ eyes and the boy had practically pounced on him in response, kissing him eagerly, but soon turning it soft and loving.

   “Well, I have to keep up with you, don’t I?” Harry says now, rubbing his thumb over the gem in Louis’ ring. “Footie season starts soon and you’re going to be busy. I need to occupy myself. Joining the swim team seems like a good idea. And maybe some of the kids here will stop picking on me, because I still wear glasses sometimes.”

   “Oh, love,” Louis sighs, letting his head thump against Harry’s chest. “I won’t let them hurt you. You shouldn’t have to join the swimming team just for that. I’ll protect you.”

Harry chuckles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his boy’s lips. “I don’t want to have to depend on you to keep me safe from bullies. I can handle myself, Boo. Plus, maybe I can see you wear one of my jerseys for once, instead of me trying to squeeze into one of yours.”

   Louis kicks at his shin. “Oh, shut up. Well, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you in a Speedo, then. Mm, looking forward to that.”

   Harry laughs loudly and brings their joined hands to his chest, holding them there and ducking down to kiss him again, this time taking his time in brushing their lips against one another’s and tilting their heads just right to fully mold their mouths together. Louis sighs against him, letting himself fall into it and get fully absorbed by the way he fits right into his body. They are a perfect match.

   They hear the coach bumbling around inside the office and break apart. Louis grins and squeezes his hands before letting go. “Go get ‘em tiger.”

   Harry rolls his eyes fondly and leans into it when Louis pecks his cheek. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the coach’s door. He hears a dark voice inside call him in and his heartbeat quickens. He locks eyes with Louis one more time before he opens the door and steps inside. Louis waits until the door has closed and then he leaves.

***

“Whoa,”

   The boys have P.E. It’s summer and really sunny and warm outside. Louis, Liam, Veronica, Niall and Zayn are sitting on the bench at the school’s pool area. Heat waves are coming off the pavement and the sky is so immensely blue, it’s hurting their eyes. Niall and Zayn have their shoulders pressed tightly to one another’s and Liam has his arm around Veronica as she raises her eyebrows at the boy coming out of the water, while Louis’ mouth is gaping open in shock.

   Harry is on his way out of the pool. He’s in the middle of swim practice and he doesn’t know that Louis’ class has gym in the water today. He has spent the past twenty minutes doing laps, water gushing over his tanned back as he works his arms and legs and Louis has spent that time just staring at his boyfriend. Especially now that he is getting out, because the water drops down his body in rivulets and the dark blue Speedo is clinging to his hips and crotch, making Veronica wiggle her eyebrows suggestively at Louis, who still can’t take his eyes of his boyfriend. Harry draws his hand through his hair after he’s shaken it out and makes his way over to the Coach who immediately yappers on about technique.

   Louis notices that Harry has laid on a lot more muscle than when they first started dating. Sure, he had been fit then too but now, his back and arms are defined to point of mouth-watering and his legs are toned and hips stronger.

   The rest of the team has gathered round and Harry is facing Louis and the others. They can see the determination on his face, the distinct curl of his biceps as he crosses them, the set of his broad shoulders and the drops of water as they slide down his collarbones and in-between the dips of his abs.

   “Shit, he’s gotten fit,” Veronica comments and Louis gives her a look.

   “He was fit before.”

   “Yeah, but now it’s like….wowzah,” Niall cuts in, making Zayn give him a disapproving look, and Louis swats him on the arm. He tugs at the waistband of his own shorts and sets his hand on his hips.    

   “Stick to your own boyfriends,” He says and bites his lip as he looks over to Harry again who is now standing on his own, toweling off his hair. Louis clears his throat and stands up from his position on the bench. Their P.E teacher isn’t looking anyways. He walks over to Harry and taps him on the shoulder. He raises his head and Louis can see his eyes scan over his half-naked body.

   “Hi, Lou,” The boy says, smile spreading over his face. “What are you doing here?”

   “I have gym class,” Louis responds and steps closer, relishing in the way Harry’s eyes brighten. The taller of the two fake-pouts and drapes the towel over his shoulders.

   “Aw, I thought you just came to watch me.”

   “You wish,” Louis laughs and licks over his lips. “Um, Harry? You do know how…good you look right now?” He runs his open palms over his tummy, as he often does when he can’t figure out what to do with his hands, which Harry always finds cute. Harry smirks and closes his hands over the ends of the towel, tugging on it a bit.

   “What do you mean?” He plays dumb, just to tease Louis, since the boy always does it to him. But Louis isn’t one to back down. He grabs Harry by the neck, tugs him down while he goes on tiptoe and whispers all the things he thinks Harry can do to him and all the things Louis is willing to do for it and Harry has the decency to blush.

***

“I’m nervous, Lou,”

   Louis can tell. Harry’s hands are shaking and they clasp his tightly, practically swallowing them whole and his eyes are bright as they look at the restaurant. It is Harry’s birthday, which means every friend, family member and distant relative is there for him at a really expensive and posh restaurant that his parents paid for and Louis is going to meet every single one of them. Harry isn’t really worried about them liking Louis. One, Louis somehow manages to charm the pants off of anyone they meet and two, Harry wouldn’t care either way.

   Louis had driven him here and even though he promised Anne, Harry’s mum, that he wouldn’t spoil the surprise, he knew that Harry was already was aware of the dinner party so he relented, especially when Harry made a cheesy line about not being able to see his beautiful face.

   Now, they pause outside and Louis gives him an apologetic look as he holds up a blindfold and Harry grins. “Kinky.”

   Louis rolls his eyes, but whispers “later” in his ear, making Harry gulp. The black blindfold is tied around his head, covering his eyes and he is guided up a few stairs and into a bustling room. He can hear glasses clink and utensils scraping across plates, but the sounds are short-lived as he is pushed towards another room, which is quieter. Harry can hear the people keeping quiet for him, though and the exited giggles of his cousins. The scarf is pulled from his face.

   “Happy birthday!” everyone shouts and Harry knows he has a shit poker face so instead of acting surprised, he just smiles and keeps a firm grip on Louis’ hand. His cousins run up to hug his legs and, having met Louis before, waits for him to crouch down so they can hug him, too, and kiss his cheeks.

   “I think they like you more than they like me,” Harry says into Louis’ ear and the boy laughs quietly.

   “Well, I’m pretty sure I look friendlier than you do right now. Wipe the frown off your face. You look like you are going to throw your salad in someone’s face.”

   Harry looks confused, but when they sit down together, having greeted everyone, he sees that the meal they have in front of them is a tiny salad. He grimaces and Louis hides another laugh behind their clasped hands.

   The boys chat with the people sitting closest, Louis more enthusiastic than Harry but the evening goes rather quickly. Harry mostly stares at the way Louis’ eyes light up when he speaks about his football games and how proud he was over Harry’s latest swim meet, which he won and how his siblings are doing and how he passed his French class with flying colours. He looks at the way Louis handles one of his cousins sitting next to him, cutting up his meat and refilling his cup of juice and placing a hand on his head when the child has finished telling a story about the kids at his kindergarten.

   Several people ask Harry how it is to be eighteen and practically married already and that causes both him and Louis to blush fiercely and sheepishly look at each other and they just somehow stick there, staring in a triangle formation; right eye, left eye and then lips.

   “Uh…um. We…we will be, eventually, I guess…” Harry stutters and a huge smile spreads over Louis’ face as he hides in the crook of Harry’s neck.

   The night carries on, with relatives leaving for home. His cousins yawn and curl themselves in their laps as they say goodbye and sloppily kiss their faces. They are then carried away by their parents and they wave after them, making them smile. Harry’s more distant relatives had left earlier, making conversation easier for Harry since he didn’t know them as well as the others.

   When dessert is over and the adults are just sipping wine and Anne is having a rather interesting conversation with one of Harry’s aunts, the birthday boy is feeling rather slow.

   “Are you okay?” Louis asks him quietly. Harry raises his head slowly and blinks at him lazily before smiling. He takes his hand and runs the pad of his thumb over the gem in the boy’s promise ring. He lifts it up and kisses it, making Louis’ cheeks redden a bit.

   “Yeah, m’perfect,” Harry mumbles and laces their fingers together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!  
> -Louise xx


End file.
